


Atlantic City

by patchfire, raving_liberal



Series: Spontaneous Marrying [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alive Finn Hudson, Consent Play, David of Oz is Going to Kill Us, Did We Mention Tropes?, Dirty Talk, Elevators, First Kiss, First Time, Kink Negotiation, LOOK WE MADE PORN FOR YOU SURPRISE!!!, M/M, Manhandling, Not Beta Read, Painplay, Power Play, Rough Sex, Safe Sane and Consensual, Tropes, Woke Up Married, Y'all Realize We're Building You A Pinn Playlist Right?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-07
Updated: 2014-03-07
Packaged: 2018-01-14 21:32:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1279609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patchfire/pseuds/patchfire, https://archiveofourown.org/users/raving_liberal/pseuds/raving_liberal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Puck and Finn go to Atlantic City for a long weekend. Getting married and subsequently discovering all of each other's kinks wasn't part of the plan, but it works out nicely.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Atlantic City

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bicrim](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bicrim/gifts), [david_of_oz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/david_of_oz/gifts).



> This is dedicated to bicrim because the Jersey Shore makes us think of her, and to david-of-oz because he's the best beta ever, but that means we don't usually get to surprise him with hardcore smut that he doesn't have to work for.

When Puck wakes up, sun in his eyes from a window clearly missing curtains, he throws an arm over his eyes and lets out a quiet groan. His bed in the dorm isn’t positioned where sun can hit his eyes, and he rearranged his bedroom with his ma when he was twelve, just to avoid the same problem. Awareness slowly filters back in, that he and Finn are in Atlantic City and in a hotel room. Puck is sure that he _meant_ to close the curtains, but obviously he didn’t, and he resolves to get up, close the curtains, and piss, so he can fall back into bed. 

It isn’t until he tries to get up that he fully registers the heavy arm across his chest, and the neck lying on top of his other arm, the one not over his eyes. He slowly blinks, taking in Finn’s peacefully sleeping face, and an assortment of other images flash across his memory.

They had decided to leave Lima on Thursday morning for the long weekend. Finn would only miss one class, and it would mean they could take four full days in Atlantic City. After driving for ten fucking hours, they’d pulled up in Atlantic City in time for dinner. They’d managed to get a glass of wine each with dinner, and two beers each at the bar afterwards, yeah, but they hadn’t really been drunk as they explored the area. Just excited and a little tipsy. Which means Puck can’t really blame what they did next on being drunk. 

Puck finally gets himself out from under Finn and pads over to the window, closing the curtains as quietly as he can, then going to the bathroom and staring at himself in the mirror. They had passed some sign about weddings, and the thing of it is, Puck can’t even remember which one of them suggested it. He knows he made a comment about it being New Jersey, that anyone could get married, even the two of them, but he can’t put a finger on when it went from ‘we _could_ do that’ to ‘we _should_ do that’. 

At some point, it did, though, because despite what Puck thinks is at most three hours of sleep, he remembers getting married to Finn. Repeating after the minister and both of them laughing at the wrong moments, and then they’d fucking kissed, and it’d been good. Better than Puck had expected, if he’d thought about it, and at 7 am on the day after he got married, Puck will admit that he had, a few times. One of them had made a joke about it being their first kiss—no, Puck remembers better as he splashes water on his face—Finn had make the joke, and Puck had said there would be a lot more firsts. 

Finn had blushed, and Puck had laughed again, throwing his arm around Finn’s shoulders and trying to make sure Finn knew he was laughing because he was happy, not because he was laughing at Finn, and they’d been ushered to a restaurant that gave them free dessert and a single flute of champagne each. 

Puck keeps cataloging what they drank and where they drank it, because he knows they weren’t drunk. He doesn’t feel hungover, just sleep-deprived, and he stares down at his hands. One wedding ring, check, and he has a feeling that when he goes and looks in his jeans pocket, he’ll find the marriage license exactly where he remembers putting it after carefully folding it. 

And they’re in New Jersey, which means they’re legally married. Puck shakes his head slowly; they’re not quite twenty years old, and they’re married, but at least it’s his best friend, or that’s what he tells himself as he starts to freak out a little. They weren’t drunk, they weren’t drugged, and clearly they were under some kind of Atlantic City spell, but it could be worse, and they’ve got four days in Atlantic City to figure it out. 

With that thought, Puck turns off the bathroom light and stumbles back to the bed, lying down next to Finn and closing his eyes. There’s no point in freaking out on too little sleep, and there’s no point in waking up Finn to start _his_ freak out yet. With that thought, Puck lets himself drift back to sleep.

 

The bed is warmer than Finn expects, because the dorm is usually so cold in the mornings. The mattress feels more comfortable than usual, too, and as Finn rolls onto his side and burrows his face into the crook of Puck's neck, he remember that the reason it's so comfortable is that it's not his dorm room bed at all. He and Puck are in Atlantic City, have been for the last twelve hours, and somewhere in an indeterminable amount of time prior to now—probably between two and eight hours ago—Finn and Puck swapped wedding vows in a little walk-in chapel just off the boardwalk. 

Finn can’t recall the vows exactly, though he suspects they were probably more or less the standard vows, but he remembers how Puck’s lips felt against his, the slightly minty taste of Puck’s tongue from the dinner mints in the chapel’s lobby. He remembers kissing Puck until he felt dizzy, only pulling away when he heard the minister’s laugh. 

“I guess that’s one way for a first kiss to go,” Finn had said, grinning at Puck and feeling more drunk from the kiss than from the glass of wine and the beer he’d had with and after dinner. Puck’s promise of a lot more firsts made Finn blush, and when Puck had laughed and put his arm around Finn, Finn thought for sure they’d go right back to the room.

They hadn’t, though. They’d eaten dessert and drunk champagne first, both of them laughing and happy. When they’d finally made it back to the room, Puck hadn’t pushed or tried to get Finn to do anything, married or not. Finn was the one who pushed Puck against the hotel room door, holding Puck by the shoulders as they kissed without any urgency, just slow and deep and, Finn remembers, _so_ damn hot. 

They had kissed against the door for at least ten minutes, maybe more, before Finn had stepped back enough to let Puck lead them over to the bed. They each pulled their own shirts off, tossing them to the floor, then Puck was in Finn’s arms again and they were falling onto the bed, one of Finn’s legs hooked around one of Puck’s legs. Puck on top of him, their dicks hard and pushing against each other through their jeans, was one of the best things Finn had ever felt. That lasted as long as it took for Puck to unzip Finn’s jeans and slip his hand inside, and then _that_ was the best thing Finn had ever felt. 

After more kissing and some awkward stroking of Finn’s dick through his underwear, both of them had pulled off their jeans, though only Finn had underwear on to take off. Once they were naked, they hadn’t jumped right into jerking each other off. Finn’s hands had traveled over Puck’s back, felt the width of his shoulders and dipped back down to the smooth skin of Puck’s ass. Puck touched Finn’s face, arms, and chest before he brushed his fingertips over the head of Finn’s dick. 

Finn’s hand had found Puck’s dick, and Puck’s fingers had wrapped around Finn’s, and they jerked each other off while they kissed. Neither of them had lasted long, coming all over each other’s hands and stomachs, and as Puck grabbed his shirt and wiped them both clean, he assured Finn not to worry about it. They had plenty of time, the rest of their lives, even.

Finn had fallen asleep with Puck’s body held close to his, his sleep deep and dreamless. Now, with the sunlight streaming in and Finn’s arm draped over Puck’s chest, Finn isn’t exactly sure what to think, let alone what to do. He’s not even sure which of them had been the one to seriously suggest they get married, nor is he sure who found the chapel, or whether they just stumbled upon it by luck or fate. He’s not even sure if, in the light of day, Puck will still be glad they got married or if the rest of their morning will be spent finding some place to get an annulment. 

“Puck,” Finn whispers. “Puck. Are you really sleeping?”

Puck grunts in his sleep, then moves a little before letting out a little sigh. Finn nudges Puck’s side gently.

“Puck. Hey, Puck.”

“Hmmm,” Puck says, his body stretching a little. “Oh.” He freezes mid-stretch. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Finn says. “So, you remember last night?”

“Yeah, I remember,” Puck says, kind of quietly. “You do too, right?”

“Oh yeah. I remember pretty much everything.”

“You’re not freaking out, are you?” Puck asks in the same quiet voice. 

“I don’t think so. Are you?” Finn asks.

Puck’s head shakes slowly back and forth before he starts to turn under Finn’s arm, ending up on his other side and facing Finn. “No,” Puck says with a small grin. “I’m not sure how we ended up here, exactly, though.”

“The hotel here? Or, uh, the married thing here?”

Puck’s grin gets wider. “I remember how we got to the hotel.” He immediately looks more serious, studying Finn’s face. “You’re really not freaking out?” 

“I’m really not,” Finn says. “Maybe I should be, but I guess it’s just not that freaky?”

“As far as I knew before last night, you weren’t exactly into dudes,” Puck points out. “I guess I figured that might freak you out, if the whole spur-of-the-moment wedding didn’t.”

Finn shrugs. “It’s not like you’re just some dude, you know,” he says. 

“Well, yeah. But it’s also…” Puck trails off, his eyes looking off to the side while he appears to be gathering his thoughts. “It’s not like we got drunk and hooked up and now one or both of us has a sore ass, you know? We weren’t even drunk, or at least I don’t think we were.” He looks back at Finn for a few seconds. “Did you have any drinks I didn’t know about?” 

“Nope. Same as you,” Finn says. “Unless you had more than I know about.”

Puck shakes his head. “No. Okay. We weren’t drunk. But we are… we got married. Like, legally.”

“Cool,” Finn says, grinning at Puck.

Puck laughs shortly. “Okay, maybe _I’m_ freaking out a little now,” he admits. “Holy shit.”

“Ok, so, not cool?” Finn asks, feeling his smile falter. 

“No, I mean, that’s not what I mean,” Puck says, shaking his head. “I—you’re, you know. _Important_. I don’t want to fuck anything up.”

“They probably have places set up to annul marriage around here, if that’s what you want,” Finn says. 

“Is that what _you_ want?” Puck asks. “I’m just, you know, thinking about—you don’t want to be married to me in three or five years, I bet.” 

Finn shrugs again, looking Puck in the eyes. “Dude, anytime I think about my future, the only person I ever see there for sure is you.”

“Yeah, but you’re gonna meet some girl or something, and you’re gonna want kids, and then it’ll be _awkward_ and I’ll have to be super-nice to her at Thanksgiving and cookouts, and—”

“Hey,” Finn says, putting his hand on Puck’s arm. “I’m not saying I’ve got any of this figured out for sure. I’m just saying I’m willing to try and figure it out if you are.”

“I don’t want to be your ex-anything,” Puck says, his eyes looking over Finn’s shoulder. 

“I don’t want you to be!” Finn says.

“Maybe we should talk about it at lunch or something,” Puck says. “You’re naked and it’s kinda distracting and this all made a lot more sense when we were—”

Finn shuts him up with a hard kiss, pushing his tongue into Puck’s mouth while his hand on Puck’s arm drags Puck closer. Puck kisses back just as hard, his hand going to the back of Finn’s neck, and while they’re kissing, Puck throws his leg over Finn’s legs. 

“Yeah, making out,” he says a little breathlessly before kissing Finn again. 

Finn rolls onto his back, manhandling Puck on top of him. Puck rolls his hips, which drags his dick against Finn’s, and Puck whimpers a little into Finn’s mouth before doing it again. Finn wraps both his arms around Puck, holding him too tightly for him to pull away. Puck keeps kissing Finn, his hands landing on the sides of Finn’s head, and Puck continues moving his hips while he kisses Finn’s chin and up his jaw. 

“You’re a really good kisser, you know that?” Puck asks between kisses. 

“Yeah, you too,” Finn says. “Your mouth is so awesome.”

“Yeah?” Puck says, his lips on Finn’s ear. “We should keep doing this, then.” He puts his parted lips back on Finn’s, his tongue sliding into Finn’s mouth as his hips start moving again. Finn moans and rocks his hips up, grinding against Puck. Puck whimpers in Finn’s mouth again, kissing Finn harder and moving his hips a little faster. One of Puck’s hands stays on the side of Finn’s head, but the other one moves down Finn’s neck and shoulder, and Puck wiggles until his arm is under Finn’s, his hand on Finn’s waist. His fingers slide underneath Finn and then tug up, pulling Finn closer to him. 

“Just this?” Finn asks, barely moving his lips away from Puck’s.

“Maybe not _just_ this,” Puck mumbles, his mouth pressed against Finn’s neck, and he moves his hand again, like he thinks Finn’s not close enough to him. Finn arches up against Puck as much as he can, so he’s touching Puck in as many places as possible at the same time. 

“Oh yeah? What else?”

Puck doesn’t answer at first, his mouth sucking in the skin of Finn’s neck underneath it, and then he kisses Finn again before talking. “I could put my mouth somewhere else,” he says. “Suck you off.”

“Yeah?” Finn asks.

“If you want,” Puck says, burying his face against the other side of Finn’s neck and pulling at it with his mouth. 

“Yeah, if you really want to,” Finn says. “That feels good, too, though. What you’re doing.”

“Don’t have to pick just one,” Puck says. He slides his mouth to a different place on Finn’s neck, closer to Finn’s shoulder. 

“Can I have all of it at the same time?” Finn asks. “‘Cause that would be extra awesome.”

Puck laughs against Finn’s neck and then pulls back a little. “I’ve only got one mouth.” 

“Which I guess is good, ‘cause it would be kinda creepy otherwise, but it’s also kind of sad,” Finn says. “But yeah, if you want to, I really want you to.”

Puck laughs again, pushing up a little, and the hand on Finn’s waist skims around to rest on Finn’s stomach. “Wouldn’t have offered if didn’t want to,” Puck says, moving backwards with his eyes still fixed on Finn’s face. He wraps his hand around Finn’s dick, sliding it up and down a few times before he starts kissing around the base and then the tip, his eyes still on Finn. 

“Oh, shit, Puck,” Finn whines. Puck grins, licking at Finn’s dick a few times before taking it in his mouth and moving his lips slowly down. He keeps his eyes open, staring up at Finn, and the corners of his mouth are still turned up in a grin. Finn puts his hands on either side of Puck’s head, not really directing him so much as just hanging on. 

Puck puts one hand around the base of Finn’s dick, stroking it as his mouth moves, and Puck’s other hand grips at Finn’s thigh for a few moments before he starts stroking the skin instead. The hand on Finn’s dick stops moving, Puck’s mouth going lower than before. Finn lifts his hips up off the bed, pulling down on Puck’s head.

“Oh _shit_ , Puck!” Finn says. “That feels so good.”

Puck laughs quietly, his mouth still wrapped around Finn’s dick, and the hand on Finn’s thigh keeps stroking for a few more minutes, Puck’s lips moving slowly, until Puck moves his hand to Finn’s balls, cupping them and running his thumb along Finn’s skin. His eyes flicker down for a few seconds before he looks back up at Finn, clearly still grinning. 

“Puck,” Finn says, starting to feel almost frantic. “Puck, I’m gonna come. I’m gonna come in your mouth if you keep doing that.”

Puck doesn’t stop any of it, still staring at Finn, and he starts moving his hand on the base of Finn’s dick again, his other hand still holding Finn’s balls almost tenderly. He pulls his mouth almost entirely off Finn’s dick before taking it back in his mouth rapidly, sucking like he was on Finn’s neck. Finn lets out a whine, then thrusts up into Puck’s mouth, hearing himself yelling something as he starts to come. Puck stays in the same position until Finn is still, his hands slowly dropping and then propping Puck up on either side of Finn’s hips as Puck lets Finn’s dick slide out of his mouth.

He doesn’t say anything, just crawls up Finn’s body and starts kissing Finn again, his hands in Finn’s hair. Finn can taste himself in Puck’s mouth, a little salty and a little bitter, but it’s not gross or weird or anything. Mostly it’s just hot, and Finn feels almost drunk, lightheaded and dizzy. Puck kisses him until, when Puck pulls away, he’s gasping for breath, and he puts his lips on Finn’s neck again. 

“Fuck, Finn,” Puck mutters. “You’re so—so sensitive or something.” 

“Is that bad?”

“There’s a word,” Puck says, shaking his head. “Like enthusiastic.” He pauses. “Responsive. That’s it.” 

“And that’s good, right?” Finn asks. “That doesn’t mean I came too fast?”

Puck shakes his head. “It was good. Awesome.” He rolls to the side, then onto his back, tugging on Finn’s arm. 

“Do you want me to do it to you, too?” Finn asks, rolling on top of Puck. “I kinda really want to now.”

“Fuck. Yeah. Yeah,” Puck says, nodding. “If you want to.”

“Yeah, I want to,” Finn says. He kisses Puck’s neck, sucking a little of the skin into his mouth before moving down Puck’s chest. He stops halfway down to look up at Puck. “Is this good?”

“Yeah, it’s good,” Puck says, reaching behind him and stuffing a pillow under his neck as he watches Finn. “You ever done it before?”

Finn shakes his head. “Have you?”

“A couple of times,” Puck admits. “Thought about it more than I ever did it.” He runs his hand through Finn’s hair and grins. “Bet you didn’t even think about it until about ten minutes ago.” 

“Who did you do it to?” Finn asks. He rests his chin on Puck’s stomach, looking at up at him.

“Uh, Matt, sophomore year,” Puck says. “And there was a guy in LA, we hooked up a few times.” Puck shrugs, like they don’t matter all that much to him. “Like I said, a lot more thinking about it than doing it.” 

“Okay,” Finn says, pressing his lips against Puck’s stomach again. He kisses all the way down to Puck’s dick before looking up again. “Is there something special you really like?”

“Don’t close your eyes?” Puck says almost tentatively, his hand going through Finn’s hair again. 

Finn nods. “Okay.” He keeps his eyes open as he holds Puck’s dick in his hand, feeling the skin along the shaft with his thumb. As he lowers his lips to the head, he lets his eyes flicker up to meet Puck’s. 

Puck grins at him. “Can I keep my hand here?” he asks, his eyes going to the hand in Finn’s hair for a few seconds. 

“Yeah, if that’s what you like,” Finn says. He flicks his tongue over the very tip of Puck’s dick, then flattens his tongue and runs it over the whole head. 

“Yeah,” Puck says, breathing a little faster. “Yeah, I like your hair,” he says, sounding a little out of it. 

“Cool,” Finn says, then lowers his mouth onto Puck’s dick, taking in the head and very slowly working his mouth downward. Puck’s skin tastes salty, and he smells good, and Finn thinks this is maybe one of the best things he’s ever done to someone. When his mouth is as far down Puck’s dick as he can go, he moves his hand up towards his mouth, so all of Puck’s dick is covered. 

“Yeah, fuck, you look hot,” Puck says with a little grunt at the end of the sentence. His hips twitch upwards like he only barely managed to stop them, and his hand runs through Finn’s hair again. “Remember I said you were a good kisser? Maybe it’s just your mouth in general.” He grins at Finn. “Experiment a little, if you want to. Maybe you’ll find something I didn’t know I liked.” 

Finn smiles, as much as he can with Puck’s dick in his mouth, anyway, and as he moves his mouth back up to the the head of Puck’s dick, he tries moving his tongue along it, too. Puck’s hips twitch again, but he doesn’t say anything, just keeps grinning. Finn flicks his tongue again, harder this time, and then starts back down Puck’s shaft. 

“That’s good,” Puck says, then lets his head fall back for a moment before raising it to look at Finn again. “Can I move my hips? I’m trying not to but it feels so damn good.” 

Finn nods and hums an “uh huh” around Puck’s dick. Puck’s hips thrust up almost immediately, his hand pulling on Finn’s hair a little. 

“Holy fuck that,” Puck says. “Shit, Finn, _that_.”

“Hmm?” Finn hums. 

“Yeah,” Puck breathes more than says, his hips jerking again. “Yeah, Finn, holy shit that’s perfect.” 

Finn hums again, no particular attempt at words, and keeps moving his mouth slowly up and down Puck’s dick, moving his hand in time as best he can. Puck keeps running his hand through Finn’s hair, his hips rocking up. 

“Fuck, you’re hot, you know that?” Puck says. “Bet we look awesome right now. Ahh, yeah, your mouth’s fantastic, Finn, keep doing that.” 

Finn keeps humming and sucking on Puck, putting his other fingers under Puck’s balls and gently rolling them in his hand. Puck lets out a low moan, his head rolling back for a moment again before he raises and grins at Finn, the hand in Finn’s hair never stilling. 

“Just like that. _Fuck_ , are you sure weren’t lying about not having done this?” Puck says with a bigger grin, clearly teasing Finn. “I should’ve kissed you before now or something.” 

Finn smiles and hums his agreement, because of course Puck should’ve kissed him before now. Puck moans again, shaking his head. 

“You okay swallowing?” he asks. 

Finn hums “uh huh” again, and gives Puck’s dick another long swipe with his tongue just to make sure Puck knows he means it. Puck nods once, his fingers pulling at Finn’s hair again, and his hips roll up higher. 

“Not going to last long,” Puck says. “Bet you can figure out how to make me come quicker, now.” 

“Mmhumm,” Finn hums around Puck’s dick, moving his mouth and hand together, everything a little wet and messy, but so, so hot. 

“Fuck,” Puck says, almost a drawn-out hiss. “Finn. Shit, Finn, _Finn_ ,” he repeats, staring down at Finn as both of his hands land on Finn’s head and his hips thrust up as he starts to come. Finn keeps his eyes locked on Puck’s, swallowing and moving his tongue. Puck tastes bitter and salty, like his mouth did after sucking on Finn, but a little sweeter, too. 

When Puck is still, he starts petting Finn’s head with both hands, then moves his hands as low as he can on Finn’s shoulders, tugging ineffectually. After a few more careful swipes with his tongue, Finn lets Puck’s dick slide out of his mouth and rests his chin on Puck’s stomach again.

“Was that good?”

“That was fucking awesome, now c’mere,” Puck says. 

“Okay,” Finn says, crawling up Puck until his lips are pressed to Puck’s. Puck wraps his arms around Finn, kissing him hard and thrusting his tongue up into Finn’s mouth as his hands move up and down on Finn’s back. 

Puck grins at Finn as they pull apart. “Sleep more?” he says. “I think I’ll freak out less when we talk again, now.”

“Yeah,” Finn says. “This was a good way to stop the freaking.”

 

The second time Puck wakes up in Atlantic City, he remembers where he is immediately, and he remembers that he’s married a second later. Puck rolls over just enough to stare at Finn, and he does feel a little calmer than he did. He reaches for Finn’s hand, turning it over and moving his stare to the rings on their hands. 

They didn’t just get married, they did it _properly_ , with actual vows and rings and legality. If Puck weren’t worried about Finn freaking out, or what will happen when they go home or even downstairs for lunch, he’d probably relax even more. 

“Maybe you want to stay married to me, huh?” Puck says quietly. “I guess you could argue we’ve been on things that could be dates for years.” Puck runs his thumb over Finn’s hand and sets it back down. Being completely honest with himself and not saying it out loud, he likes the idea of being married to Finn. They’re pretty damn compatible anyway, and so far anything sexual is following the same pattern. It’s a little weird to think about being done with dating and trying to meet people, because he’s not really that old, but he’s pretty sure the benefits outweigh any downsides. As long as, he mentally adds, Finn really does want to give it a go. 

Puck shivers a little, and he pulls all of the blankets over the two of them. He’s not as much of a fuck up as he once was, and that not only should count for something, he figures that gives him a better chance of not fucking things up, period. He turns his head to look at the clock and then back at Finn. 

“Time for lunch,” he says, louder than before. “Finn, c’mon, I bet you’re starving.” Puck shakes Finn’s shoulder, just like he does any other time he’s waking Finn up, and he thinks maybe if they’re married he should wake Finn up differently. Shaking Finn’s shoulder usually works, though, so that’s what Puck goes with. “Lunchtime, Finn.”

“Can’t we just order room service?” Finn whines. 

“I’ll get distracted again,” Puck says. His hand’s already left Finn’s shoulder, running over Finn’s collarbone and the side of his neck. “We’d still be naked.”

“That’s not so bad,” Finn says. 

“Yeah, but we’re supposed to use our mouths to talk with at lunch, not other things,” Puck says. “Then we get to get undressed again.” 

“I could wait to eat,” Finn says, but then his stomach immediately growls, like a punchline to a joke.

Puck grins. “C’mon, remember we wanted to try out that buffet.” 

“Okay, okay,” Finn grumbles, sitting up. “Oh, dude, you know what?”

“You forgot your toothpaste, like you do every time you go anywhere?” Puck guesses. 

“No. I mean, yeah, that too, but, no. This is our first married-people lunch!”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Puck says, grinning a little and then getting out of the bed, standing up to stretch. “You think they’d give us a discount or sing something?”

“Maybe they’ll give us free dessert, too!” Finn says. “We should try as many places as we can and get free desserts at all of them.”

“I bet you do,” Puck says, looking around for a pair of jeans. “‘Cause people talk about how people gain weight when they get married. Free dessert might do it.” He stops in front of his bag and frowns. “Did we really get married in t-shirts?”

“I didn’t even pack a nice shirt, so I guess so,” Finn says, shrugging. “Did they take any pictures of us, do you think?”

“I think we have to go back and pick them up or something,” Puck says. “I wasn’t really listening by that point.” He picks up a clean t-shirt and pulls it on, then looks around for his jacket. “I don’t know why part of me thought it’d be warmer just ‘cause of the ocean.” 

“The beach is supposed to be warm,” Finn says.

“Yeah, but it’s February, so I guess February beats ocean in the weather,” Puck says, shrugging as he finds his jacket on top of the television armoire thing, and he wonders how it got there. “At least we only have to go downstairs.” He turns towards Finn to see if Finn’s dressed. Finn’s only halfway there, though, with jeans on, but no shirt.

“It’s not _just_ sushi, right?” Finn asks. “I only like the kind that’s cooked.”

“It’s like pizza and meat and seafood. And ice cream,” Puck says, walking to Finn’s bag and handing him a shirt. “You can probably ignore the sushi and still have plenty to pick from.”

“Thanks,” Finn says. He pulls on the shirt, then puts on his shoes. “Okay, let’s go eat.”

“Yeah,” Puck says, grabbing his room key and putting it in his pocket. He opens the door to the hall, then looks at Finn for a few seconds before reaching out and taking Finn’s hand as they walk towards the elevators. Finn looks down at their joined hands and smiles.

“You’re holding my hand,” Finn says. 

“We got married, we made out, and we’ve had our dicks in each other’s mouths, and _that’s_ what you comment on?” Puck asks with a wide grin. 

“It’s sweet,” Finn says with a shrug. “I like it.”

Puck shrugs in return. “Okay,” he says, punching the down button next to the elevator and walking in with Finn when one set of doors opens. They’re the only two in the elevator, and after Puck hits the number for the floor the buffet place is on, he turns to Finn. “Does that mean I should skip the making out in the elevator I was thinking about?”

“Nope,” Finn says. “You definitely shouldn’t skip that.”

Puck grins and pulls on Finn’s hand to bring him closer, then kisses him, putting his other hand on the back of Finn’s head, and Puck is pretty sure he’s got some kind of thing for his hand in Finn’s hair, but Finn’s not complaining. Puck releases Finn’s hand so he can put his other arm around Finn, pressing their bodies together while they kiss. Both of Finn’s hand land on Puck’s ass, squeezing it. 

They’re still kissing when Puck feels the elevator slowing, and then the doors open, announcing the floor number, which isn’t theirs, and he hears someone else walk into the elevator. As the doors close again, the new person on the elevator clears his throat, and Puck considers starting to pull back a little. He doesn’t really _want_ to, though, so he keeps kissing Finn through another clearing of the person’s throat. 

“Excuse me,” the person says, and Puck pulls away from Finn with a slight sigh. 

“Yeah?” he asks without looking. 

“This is a public elevator.”

“We’re newlyweds,” Finn says, giving the elevator person a shit-eating grin.

“Uh-huh,” the person says dubiously, and Puck lifts up his left hand, then picks up Finn’s left hand. 

“See?” Puck says, but before there’s more response, the elevator announces they’ve reached the buffet floor, and Puck takes Finn’s hand again as they leave the elevator. “We picked out nice rings,” he says. 

“Oh yeah, we sure did!” Finn says. “Those _are_ really nice. Go us!”

“You really want to stay married to me?” Puck asks as they reach the start of the buffet line. “I mean, not just in Atlantic City, but back in Lima?”

“Do you think we could get them to move us into the married student housing?”

“We could probably sue if they wouldn’t,” Puck says. “I mean, your mom’s probably going to freak out and—oh, shit. She’s gonna kill me.”

“No way, my mom loves you!” Finn insists.

“Not your mom, my sister!” Puck says with a groan. “Adriana’s been making me promise she could be the flower girl since she was like, two.”

“Oh, shit, yeah, she’s gonna kill both of us,” Finn agrees.

“I think she’ll be the least reasonable about it, yeah,” Puck says, shaking his head. “Besides, remember when she was six? She was convinced _she_ was gonna marry you.”

“Yeah, she’s gonna kill us in our faces,” Finn says, looking distressed, then his face brightens. “Shit, no, I have a great idea!”

“What is it?” Puck asks. 

“We don’t tell anybody we got married,” Finn says.

“See, that’s what I meant,” Puck says with a sigh. “You’re fine here, but not back home.”

Finn rolls his eyes. “You didn’t let me finish, dude. We don’t tell them we got married. We tell them we got _engaged_.”

“And that’s going to be better because…?”

“Because then we can do another wedding and Adriana can still be in it, and nobody’ll be pissed off!” Finn says. “It’s perfect. Nobody’ll be able to say we rushed it, either, plus we get two anniversaries.”

Puck frowns as he thinks it over and they pile food on their plates. “Then we can’t move into married student housing yet,” he says. “And what are we going to tell people, that these are engagement rings?”

“We can tell the school that we’re actually married, and just never have people over,” Finn suggests. “And I don’t know. Do they do engagement rings for dudes? I mean, that don’t just look like regular rings.”

“I don’t think so?” Puck says, shrugging. “You could probably ask your brother. I mean, he’d wonder _why_ , but he’s not in Lima, so he can’t tell Adriana.”

“If I just text him about it, then when we say we got engaged, he’ll think that’s why I asked,” Finn says. 

“Yeah, probably so.” Puck picks up some sushi and some shrimp cocktail, because why not? “I don’t know anything about planning weddings, though. Last night was the extent of my knowledge.”

“We can hire somebody. Or we can ask Kurt about that, too, since he’s already planned one!”

“Hey, wait!” Puck grins. “That means we get two honeymoons, right?”

“Well, yeah,” Finn says, returning the grin. “Since we’re kinda on the first one already.”

“Exactly.” Puck and Finn sit down at a small table, and Puck puts one of his feet between Finn’s ankles. “Just for the record, we’re telling everyone you proposed to me.”

“Yeah?”

“And no one was drunk, and there’s no, I don’t know. Blackmail,” Puck says. 

“Can we tell everybody we’ve been stealth-dating, too?” Finn asks.

“We live together, I think every movie I’ve seen in the last six months has been with you, and sometimes we pay for each other’s food,” Puck says. “I think maybe we _were_ stealth-dating.” 

“Dude, we’re like Bat-daters!”

“We’ve got a lot of making out to catch up on, though,” Puck says with a frown. “Probably more blow jobs too. Think you can stand making up the backlog?”

“Yeah, you might have to twist my arm,” Finn says with a little laugh.

“It might take awhile.” Puck eats two of the shrimp off the shrimp cocktail and stares at his plate for a minute. “I mean, while we’re working off the backlog, what we would have done then’ll build up. It could take… I don’t know, _years_.”

“Yeah, that sounds like the worst,” Finn says. “We should definitely get right on that.”

Puck grins. “Yeah, we should.” He reaches across the table and takes Finn’s hand. “You really-really want to be married to me? I mean, I’m gonna do my best. But I’m still me.” 

“Yeah, you’re you, and if you hadn’t noticed, I kinda like having you around since like forever,” Finn says.

“I’m just saying, I know my guns are a real catch, but you know, don’t let ‘em blind you,” Puck says, mostly jokingly. 

“I’ll get sunglasses for indoors,” Finn says, straight-faced. “I’ll get one of those sleep mask things for night.”

“Kinky,” Puck says, then looks curiously at Finn. “ _Do_ you have any kinks? I should probably know that.” 

“I don’t know if I do or not,” Finn says.

“Anything you just really like the idea of?”

“I’m not even sure what kinks people usually have!” Finn admits.

“Well, you know, forget about calling it a kink,” Puck says with a shrug. “Just anything that you think sounds like something you want to try.” 

Finn blushes and suddenly pays way too much attention to the bite of steak he’s cutting and shoving into his mouth. Puck grins and runs his foot over Finn’s leg. 

“C’mon,” he teases. “You can tell me. You married me, I’m your only chance at it.” 

“Maybe you’ve just gotta figure it out,” Finn says, blushing harder and still not looking up at Puck.

“You know I’m not gonna object to some experimenting, but not as a cop-out,” Puck says. “Tell me,” he sing-songs. “Tell me what it is.” 

“No!” Finn says. “I’m just gonna eat my lunch! My lunch you made me put clothes on to come eat!”

“Tell me,” Puck insists, putting his other hand on Finn’s other wrist. “C’mon, you gotta give me something to work with here. Otherwise I’ll end up going in the wrong direction.” 

“Well... I kinda really dug the hair pulling,” Finn admits.

“Yeah?” Puck says, studying Finn’s face for a moment. “I’m gonna ask you again later, ‘cause that wasn’t all of it. But good to know.”

“What about you?” Finn asks. “Are you gonna tell me yours?”

“You already found out at least three of ‘em,” Puck says with a grin. “How many kinks do you think I have?”

“I don’t know. Like twelve or fifteen?”

“Huh.” Puck eats some of his sushi while he mentally tallies them up. “Yeah, okay, that’s probably about right,” he concedes. “You want me to tell you one of the ones you didn’t find out?”

“Can you tell me one of the ones I _did_ find out, too?” Finn asks. 

“Okay, well, the hair thing, I like putting my hands in your hair, and I didn’t know about the humming during blow jobs thing, and I like talking.” Puck shrugs. “The talking can go either way, so I figured that was really two. And I kinda like when it’s nasty-talking.”

“Okay, cool,” Finn says. “Those all match up pretty good, at least as much as the stuff I’ve tried, goes. I don’t know if I like the nasty-talking or not.”

“We can always try it,” Puck says. “I can get a little… close to mean, I guess. Sometimes I just want it all really _rough_ , you know? Like sex-wrestling. But sometimes slow’s good too.”

Finn blushes even darker this time. “Yeah. Rough and mean could be cool.”

“Oh yeah?” Puck grins slowly. “Just ‘could be’? You don’t want me to take you upstairs to our room and play with you? Maybe…” Puck trails off and looks at Finn’s face closely. Finn looks like he can’t decide whether to be curious and interested or embarrassed, and Puck’s grin gets wider. “Maybe make you wince a few times, and not just from pulling on your hair?”

Finn’s face turns crimson, but he nods, not quite making eye contact. 

“Say it,” Puck says, his voice low. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I want that.”

“Fuck, that’s hot,” Puck says in the same low tone. “Do you want me to fuck you?” he asks. “‘Cause we can wait and make it, I don’t know, rose petals the first time. Or I can roll you over and fuck you hard. Could still do it the other way later, I just need to know what you want first.” 

“Did you—did you want it some specific way?” Finn asks, his face still just as red.

“Like I said, we’ve got plenty of time to do it every way. I just want to know what you want first,” Puck says, shrugging a little. “‘Cause I can still be rough with you and just not fuck you.” 

“Can I decide when we get back to the room? It’s kinda hard to concentrate on my food now,” Finn says.

“Maybe tell me when we get off the elevator. Or right outside the room,” Puck says. “You want to go right now?”

Finn nods. “Yeah. We probably should.”

Puck grins and pushes his chair back, standing up and grabbing Finn’s hand, tugging him up. “You just want to make out in the elevator again.”

“Maybe a little, yeah,” Finn says.

“I think that’s allowed,” Puck says, pulling Finn close and then putting his arm around Finn’s shoulders as they leave the buffet and walk to the elevators. “I mean, we’re married, and I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to want to make out with your—huh. Husband.” 

“Good, ‘cause I do,” Finn says.

“Well, yeah, you already said I was a great kisser,” Puck says with a grin, pulling Finn into a luckily empty elevator and starting to kiss him before the doors close. He does tug a little on Finn’s hair, backing him against the wall of the elevator and pushing his leg between Finn’s legs and then up against Finn’s dick. Finn’s hands go back to Puck’s ass, holding him close and squeezing. 

Puck pulls on Finn’s hair again, then moves his mouth to Finn’s neck, kissing and sucking while he pushes himself against Finn’s body, his leg pressing up just enough for him to move it slowly against Finn’s dick. The noise Finn makes is somewhere in between a moan and a groan, and he squeezes Puck’s ass harder. Puck’s response is to rock forward, then press back against Finn’s hand before putting his mouth against Finn’s ear. 

“Tell me what you want,” he whispers as the doors open and announce their floor. 

“I want you to take me back to the room, like _now_ ,” Finn says. “I want you to fuck me.”

“Yeah, I want to fuck you,” Puck agrees. “I want to fuck you so hard, Finn.” He steps back and grabs Finn’s wrists, walking backwards out of the elevator and pulling Finn with him. He squeezes Finn’s wrists tight, his eyes on Finn’s face. 

“I want you to. That’s what I want,” Finn says. 

“You like this?” Puck asks, tightening his hands again just before they stop outside their room. He releases one of Finn’s wrists to pull out the room key, inserting it three times in the door before he gets the timing right and the door opens. 

“Yeah, you can do more of that.”

“What else do you want me to do more of?” Puck asks, stepping away from Finn to strip off his jacket and t-shirt. He starts to leave his jeans on, then thinks better of it and takes them off, too. 

“Everything, including the stuff you haven’t done yet,” Finn says, pulling off his t-shirt and jeans, too. 

“That’s a lot of stuff,” Puck says. “I don’t know that I can finish all of that before we want to eat again.” 

“We’ll just start and get through as much as we can, then,” Finn says.

“Always optimistic,” Puck says, laughing and stepping forward to grab Finn’s wrists again. He pushes Finn’s back against the wall, then holds Finn’s wrists at his sides. Puck waits a few seconds, until he can tell Finn’s almost settled in position, and then he pushes Finn’s wrists hard against the wall. “I’m gonna open you up and fuck you,” Puck says, his voice taking on a harsher sound. “I’m gonna wrestle you to the bed and you might end up with bruises, and I’m gonna fuck you into the bed, so this is your chance to get out of it. Is that what you want?” 

Finn lets out a little whine, then he brings his mouth to Puck’s, kissing him roughly, just a hint of teeth against Puck’s lower lip. 

“Uh-uh, you gotta say it,” Puck says, putting his leg in the same position it was in the elevator. “Gotta use the words.” He jerks his leg up against Finn’s dick, which is already pretty damn hard, and if Puck weren’t focused on the fucking, he’d drop to his knees right there and blow Finn again. 

Finn whines again, but he says, “Yeah, that’s what I want. I want it, Puck.”

“Good,” Puck says, then kisses Finn hard, almost forcing his tongue into Finn’s mouth before pulling back and nipping at Finn’s jaw and neck. “You’re gonna end up begging me,” he says, moving his hands to Finn’s shoulder and digging them into Finn’s skin a little as he starts to direct the two of them towards the bed. “Begging me to fuck you, begging me to fuck you harder.” 

“Not begging you to stop?” Finn asks, and he’s clearly trying to be a smart-ass. 

“Nope,” Puck says, moving one of his hands and smacking Finn’s hip. “Wouldn’t work, anyway.”

“You won’t stop if I beg you to stop?”

“If you _really_ want to stop, you tell me… asparagus,” Puck says. “Otherwise, nope.” He flexes his hand, the tips of his nails digging into the skin on Finn’s hips. 

Finn hisses quietly when Puck’s nails dig in. “Asparagus?”

“Listening to you beg’s part of the fun for both of us,” Puck says. “That’s your safe word.”

“Oh, okay, cool.”

Puck grins and pushes Finn onto the bed, leaning over him and grabbing one of Finn’s nipples between his fingers while he kisses Finn. He pulls back, still grinning, and slowly twists his hand, his eyes on Finn. “That hurt?” he asks, and Finn nods. “Want me to keep doing it anyway?” Finn nods again, eyes wide. “Fuck, you weren’t kidding.” He puts his other hand on Finn’s other nipple, twisting and pulling and pinching, trying to see what noises he can get from Finn. 

He gets a few whimpers, a long whine, and then a sort of gaspy yelp. Puck repeats what he was doing at that moment, twisting and pinching at the same time, and this time the yelp is less gaspy, lower and louder.

“Yeah, you like that,” Puck says, leaning over and scraping his teeth over one nipple before pulling it into his mouth, sucking on it, and he moves that hand to Finn’s arm, squeezing hard with his nails in Finn’s skin. His other hand keeps pinching and twisting on Finn’s nipple, and he pulls up with a grin as a thought comes to him. “You know what I’m going to get you?”

“What?” Finn asks in a breathy voice.

“One of those cock rings. Make you _ache_ until you finally come. What do you think?” Puck asks, his grin becoming more of a smirk. 

“I think that sounds mean,” Finn whines.

“I think you’d whine and complain until after, and then I think you’d beg me to use it again,” Puck counters. He releases Finn’s other nipple and stares at them while he brushes the tips of his fingers over the head of Finn’s dick. “Like right now I bet you wish I’d move my hands back to your nipples.” 

“Yeah,” Finn says. “I do.”

“Even though they’re already sore, I bet,” Puck adds, and now he’s definitely smirking. 

“Yeah, a little bit,” Finn admits.

“I can make ‘em more sore.” Puck does move one hand back to one of Finn’s nipples, pinching with his fingernails and then slowly twisting it. “You want it like this, don’t you?” Finn nods. “How mean do you want it?” Puck asks. “I’m going to be as rough as I can, ‘cause you want me to, look at you, but we said rough and mean.” 

“Just don’t tell me you don’t love me,” Finn says. 

“Yeah, okay,” Puck says, because the thought hadn’t even occurred to him. He leans over again, this time sucking on the other nipple than before. He moves his hands down Finn’s sides, pinching as they go, and he moves his mouth to Finn’s neck. “So telling you you’re a little bit of a cockslut, that’s okay?” he whispers in Finn’s ear, his voice harsh again. 

“Am I?” Finn asks, like the idea hadn’t occurred to him.

“You didn’t hesitate to suck me off, did you?” Puck says, still whispering harshly. “And now you want me to fuck you. You just want my cock in you, one way or another, don’t you?” 

“Yeah,” Finn agrees. “Yeah, I do.”

“See?” Puck says triumphantly, pinching Finn’s hip hard. “Cockslut. I know what you are.” 

Finn yelps, but he nods. “Yeah. I guess I am.”

“Fuck, you’re so loud,” Puck mutters. “It’s awesome.” He pinches Finn again, sucking at Finn’s neck before pulling back and sitting up. “Turn over.” 

Finn raises his eyebrows at Puck and doesn’t turn over.

“You want me to make you?” Puck asks, squeezing Finn’s hip with one hand. 

“Maybe,” Finn says. Puck smacks Finn’s hip again, shaking his head slowly, and grabs Finn’s shoulder. 

“Yeah, I’ll make you turn over,” Puck says, gripping Finn tightly and then grabbing Finn’s chin with his other hand, kissing him hard and pushing at his shoulders and hips as he ends the kiss. Finn resists, and Puck shakes his head again. He grabs one of Finn’s nipples, twisting it hard while he slides his arm under Finn’s shoulder. Finn yelps again, and Puck smirks as he flips Finn over and immediately sits on his back. “Didn’t I tell you?”

“Yeah, you told me,” Finn says, struggling under Puck. “And you’re heavy!”

Puck pulls on Finn’s hair, turning his head to the side. “I have to be, don’t I, to keep you in line?” 

“I’m still bigger than you,” Finn says, trying to push himself up onto his arms. 

“Mmmhmm,” Puck says, feeling a little smug. “But I’m the one sitting on top of you right now.” He puts his hands on Finn’s upper arms and then pinches one while pressing down on the other. “And I’m the one that’s going to fuck you into the mattress.”

“Yeah, that’s what you keep telling me,” Finn retorts. 

Puck laughs and leans over, kissing and sucking at Finn’s neck while he pulls on Finn’s hair, then sits up again. “Are you saying you’re so eager that I need to hurry up? You can’t wait to have me inside you? Is that it?”

“Maybe,” Finn says.

“You know it’s a damn good thing I started taking lube with me when I traveled when I was sixteen,” Puck says. “Otherwise you’d really be hurting.” He scratches down Finn’s back with one hand. “I think that’s exactly what you want right now.” 

“I already said maybe,” Finn replies. 

“Smart-ass,” Puck says, pinching Finn’s side and leaning off the side of the bed, trying to reach his bag. “You’re gonna forget to pack toothpaste _and_ lube now, thinking I’ll always have it, aren’t you?” Puck pulls the lube out without falling off the bed completely, which is an accomplishment, and he slowly moves backward until he’s straddling Finn’s legs, and he puts some lube on one finger before slowly pushing it into Finn’s ass. 

Finn yells something that might have supposed to be “hey!” or “ow!” because what comes out is, “How!”

“I can’t just push my dick into your virgin ass,” Puck says. “Unless you have extensive anal experience you’ve been hiding from me.” 

“No! But you don’t have to be so rough!”

“Oh, you want it rough,” Puck says, moving his finger in jerking motions. “I know you do.”

“Fuck,” Finn says. He presses his face against the mattress. “Fuck, Puck!”

“Not yet.” Puck squeezes Finn’s ass with his free hand. “I knew you were just impatient.” He pulls his hand back out, getting more lube, and pushes two fingers in. “Better?”

Finn yells again, another barely articulated “Fuck!” Despite his yelling, though, he pushes back against Puck’s fingers. 

“Yeah, that’s hot, you’re so eager,” Puck says, running his thumb along Finn’s exposed skin. “I’m gonna be so deep inside you, Finn, just like you want.” He moves his other hand to Finn’s balls and squeezes gently. “You want me to play with these, too?”

“Gently,” Finn says.

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s what you really mean,” Puck says, tugging on Finn’s balls as he keeps pushing his fingers in deeper. “Look at you. Pull your knees up under you.”

“Make me,” Finn says.

Puck pushes his fingers in sharply, then pulls them out, squeezing Finn’s balls at the same time, and he leaves his fingers almost touching Finn’s ass, pushing on it with one knee. “I can go jerk myself off,” he threatens. 

“You don’t want to,” Finn says, but he does pull his knees up. 

“Yeah, that’s true,” Puck admits, pushing his fingers back into Finn. “And you didn’t want me to, either. You want my dick inside you.” He starts tugging on Finn’s balls again, leaning over and sucking and kissing at Finn’s back. “That’s all you’re thinking about.”

“Maybe,” Finn says. “Yeah.”

“Yeah, you want it.” Puck pulls his fingers out again, coating his dick with lube and then tossing the bottle aside. He grabs Finn’s hips and positions his dick in front of Finn’s hole, then starts pushing inside Finn, his fingers digging into Finn’s skin in an effort not to go even faster than he intends. 

Finn clutches at the bedding under him, making gaspy yelps that sound like “Ah! Ah! Ah!”

“Fuck, Finn,” Puck says. “You should see this, you’re so fucking tight but you’re just taking my dick in your hole, just like I knew you wanted.” Puck angles his fingers, nails scratching at Finn’s hips as he keeps pushing deeper into Finn. “Yeah, this is what you wanted, isn’t it? You wanted me deep inside you, fucking you.” 

“Fuck, that hurts,” Finn says through gritted teeth. “Fuck.”

“Yeah, you’ll get used to it in a minute,” Puck says, half-patting and half-smacking Finn’s side where he’s been gripping it. “You look so fucking hot, Finn.” When Puck is fully inside Finn, he stops still, reaching between Finn’s legs awkwardly and grabbing Finn’s balls again. “Then the stretching starts to feel really fucking good while it hurts.” 

“How long until that happens?”

“It happens faster the less you whine,” Puck teases, tugging on Finn’s balls again. “Fuck. My dick’s so fucking warm right now, and you’re still so tight.” He rocks his hips just a little, testing Finn’s reaction. Finn yelps again, but sounds more surprised than pained. Puck grins, moving both of his hands to Finn’s waist and rocks again. “Yeah, you’re gonna feel so fucking good, Finn.”

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” Finn moans.

“Yeah, that’s beautiful,” Puck says. “I’m gonna fuck you now, and you should be as loud as you want.” He starts to move, pulling out just a little before thrusting in, each thrust getting a little further out before slamming back inside Finn. 

Finn _is_ loud, yelling “Fuck!” and “oh, shit, Puck!” as Puck fucks him, but when Puck reaches under Finn and grabs his dick, it’s even harder than it was when Puck was sucking it earlier, and Puck grins to himself. 

“Yeah, just like that,” Puck says, speeding up and moving his hand on Finn’s dick. “Yeah, you want this. You want it so bad.”

“I don’t know what I want,” Finn says, sounding like he’s on the verge of falling apart and maybe bursting into loud tears or something, and Puck keeps stroking Finn’s dick. 

“You’re so good,” Puck says. “So fucking good. You want to come but you’re not there yet. Just let go. Just feel it, Finn.” 

“I can’t,” Finn sobs, clutching so tightly at the blankets under him that his knuckles are white. “I can’t, I can’t.”

“I’ve got you,” Puck says. “You can. Just feel my hand and my dick and let go.”

Finn says “oh god” and then he lets go like Puck told him to, coming in Puck’s hand as his ass tightens around Puck’s dick. Puck holds on to Finn’s hip with his other hand and thrusts in a few more times before he starts to come, and he can hear himself shouting Finn’s name when he comes, before he collapses on top of Finn’s back. 

“Just like that,” Puck mumbles.

Finn exhales slowly, his body limp under Puck’s. “Being married is different from what I expected,” he says.

Puck chuckles, kissing Finn’s back and then rolling to the side, opening his arms up. “C’mere,” he says. “What did you expect?”

Finn crawls into Puck’s arms, resting his head against Puck’s chest. “Less rough, more newspapers and coffee.”

“Hey, nothing says we can’t have newspapers and coffee after sex,” Puck says, kissing the top of Finn’s head. “And we don’t have to play rough every time there’s sex. And you know I’d never call you a cockslut or anything if we weren’t playing, right?”

“Right,” Finn says. 

“I wouldn’t say I didn’t love you,” Puck says softly. “Not ever, okay?” 

“You didn’t say you _did_ , though,” Finn says.

“Hmm. I could say the same,” Puck points out. “But how far would we have to go back to figure out when that happened?” He kisses the top of Finn’s head again. 

“I do, though. Love you.”

“Yeah?” Puck runs his hands up and down Finn’s back, then picks up one of Finn’s hands, squeezing it. “It’s maybe possible I’ve been in love with you for years,” he admits. 

“Cool,” Finn says. “I think maybe a little bit the same with me, with you.”

“Like, um.” Puck makes a face at himself. “Maybe freshman year. Not that I realized it then.”

“But we both realize it now,” Finn says.

“Yeah, I think that’s safe to say,” Puck says. “Maybe we just let Adriana yell at us.”

“So no fake engaged, just real married?”

“Do you really wanna pretend for weeks or months or whatever?” Puck asks. 

“No,” Finn says. “I do like the idea of two honeymoons, though.”

“How about we take a vacation for our anniversary every year? That’s a lot more than two trips.”

“What if my mom cries because she didn’t get to come to our wedding?”

“What’s that thing that somebody’s parents did senior year? Vow renewal? We can tell her we’ll do that someday.”

“Okay, cool,” Finn says. “So married for real. Married for good?”

“You’re not supposed to start planning how you’re going to trade me in for a younger model while we’re still on the honeymoon,” Puck says mock-sadly. “At least wait a month.” He snorts and uses his hand to tilt Finn’s face up so he can kiss him. “Yeah, for good.”

“Can we do the rose petals kind of sex the next time?” Finn asks. 

“Sure. We can get champagne, too,” Puck says. “We could do it both ways, if you wanted.”

“Can we do it _all_ the ways?”

Puck grins. “Why wouldn’t we?”

“No, I mean while we’re still in Atlantic City,” Finn clarifies. “Can we do it all the ways this weekend?”

“We can try,” Puck says. “Not sure we have enough time. You know what we should get?”

“What?”

“ _The Joy of Gay Sex_ ,” Puck says, managing to keep his voice even and not laugh.

“Does it have check-boxes?”

“We could dog-ear the pages, I guess,” Puck says with a shrug. “Or make our own checklist and print it out.” 

“We can hang it up on our new married student housing,” Finn says. “And our wedding picture, which we have to go pick up later when my ass isn’t super sore anymore.”

Puck winces and runs his hand over Finn’s ass. “Want to take a shower?” he asks. “I’ll clean you up.” 

“Yeah, that sounds good. Then we can get our picture and eat again and get some rose petals,” Finn says. 

Puck grins at Finn. “Maybe some more lube, if we’re gonna be that busy.”

 

By the last morning in Atlantic City, they’ve got their wedding photo and a copy of _The Joy of Gay Sex_ with a few of the pages already dog-eared, and both of them are happily exhausted and plenty sore. The ring already sits comfortably on Finn’s left hand, and he’s been mentally rehearsing how he’s going to break the news of his marriage to his mom when he gets back to Lima. 

“Maybe we can just wait for someone to notice the rings,” Finn suggests, as they’re packing their dirty clothes and their souvenirs back into their bags. “Not bring it up until they ask.”

“I think they might notice all the making out,” Puck says. “Also whenever you go help Schue, all of them are nosy and going to notice.”

“Should we tell everybody all at once—toss me that shirt—or tell our moms at the same time or what?”

“You know my mom’s just gonna tell me ‘mazel tov’ and send us a blender or something. She won’t be mad. I can get her to tell Adriana, maybe,” Puck says, throwing Finn the shirt. “Maybe we should just go over and see your mom when we get back. Like ripping off a Band-Aid, right?”

“She’s gonna yell, isn’t she?” Finn asks, grimacing at the thought of just how much his mom is probably going to yell. 

“Or cry,” Puck agrees. “Hey, I know. C’mere.” He pulls out his phone and gestures for Finn to come closer. Finn stands right next to Puck. Puck grabs Finn’s left hand with his own left hand and takes a picture of them. “I’ll send it to my mom,” he says. “I could send it to Jake, too.”

“Yeah, he’ll let the glee club know, and then I don’t have to deal with any of them getting mad at me for not telling them ahead of time!”

Puck laughs. “Yeah, that’ll work.” He types on his phone for a moment, then puts it back in his pocket. “If they can’t recognize our hands, that’d be pretty sad.”

“It was a good picture, too,” Finn says. “We should print it.”

“Yeah, good idea,” Puck says, zipping his bag and then laughing when his phone buzzes. “They can wait until we’re driving.”

“Did you want to eat before we hit the road, or put some miles under us first?” Finn asks, shouldering his own bag.

“We should get at least an hour or two out,” Puck says, looking around the room before he picks up his duffel bag and then takes Finn’s hand. “And there’s another text.”

“How fast do you think they’ll get us moved at school?”

Puck makes a face as they head towards the elevator. “Couple of weeks? Or maybe the end of the month.”

“Bleh. I kinda got used to the big-ass bed,” Finn says, frowning. “Thing we could push the bunks together or something like that?”

“Yeah, we should at least try it.” When they step onto the elevator, Puck grins at Finn. 

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I was thinking,” Finn says, pulling Puck to him and slamming their mouths together as the elevator doors slide shut. Puck puts his hands in Finn’s hair and doesn’t pull away until the elevator reaches the lobby. 

“We can use the newlywed excuse the whole first year, right?” Puck asks. 

“Definitely,” Finn says. 

Puck doesn’t let go of Finn’s hand until they reach the truck, and he picks it back up again almost absently once they’re inside. “I told you. Mom said ‘mazel tov’. Jake says ‘holy shit’ and then ‘congratulations’ and then ‘oh wait that’s FINN’S hand’ and finally another ‘congratulations you two’.” 

“Maybe you can just text my mom for me,” Finn suggests.

“Are you joking or serious?” Puck asks. 

“Whichever one doesn’t make you mad at me.”

Puck laughs and lets go of Finn’s hand. “I’m putting her on speaker if she calls,” he warns, then types something in on his phone. “I told her I was sure that she’d be a good mother-in-law, too.” 

“Awesome!” Finn says. “Maybe we can go over for dinner tonight.”

“You’re really optimistic,” Puck says, taking Finn’s hand again as Finn drives. Five or ten minutes pass before Puck’s phone rings, and he says, “Here we go” before answering the call and putting it on speaker. “Hi,” he says, nudging Finn. “Say hi,” he whispers. 

“Hi, Mom!” Finn says. “How are you? How was your weekend?”

“Finn Hudson!” Carole says, sounding like she wants to cry and scream at once. “You got _married_?”

“Yeah, I kinda, sorta, maybe totally did that,” Finn says. “But you already know him, at least, so that’s good!”

“I didn’t know you were dating! Were you even engaged? How could you get married without me? I didn’t know you liked boys!”

“Uhhh.” Finn glances over at Puck. “We weren’t, exactly. No. Didn’t plan it ahead of time, it just happened, and, uh. Well, yeah, I guess I do. This one, anyway. I like him.”

Puck laughs. “Yeah, you do.” 

“Finn, I just don’t know what to say or think,” Carole says. “Were you _drunk_? You can get it annulled, you know, as long as you—”

“Yeah, no, we can’t,” Puck interrupts. 

“Totally did the thing you have to do to make it count,” Finn says. “A lot, actually.”

“Finn!” Carole says, her voice getting really high. “You didn’t answer me about being drunk,” she continues after a few seconds. 

“We weren’t, Mom. I promise.” Finn smiles at Puck. “And even if we had been, we kinda got married the first night we were there, and we would’ve had plenty of time to change our minds if we wanted to.”

“Yeah, we’ve been married for four full days,” Puck says. “But five nights.” 

“I always thought I’d get to dance with you at your wedding,” Carole says, sounding teary. “And I don’t even have a picture.”

“Aww, Mom, don’t cry! We have a picture!” Finn says.

“And we’ll totally do one of those vow renewals sometime,” Puck says. “Whenever we’re legal in Ohio, maybe.”

“A vow renewal? That’s not really the same,” Carole says, but she’s less teary-sounding. 

A thought crosses Finn’s mind, so he goes ahead and says it. “And anyway, Kurt’s the one who wanted a big wedding, so you’ll still get to dance at his, and this way you only have to help pay for one wedding, not two! We totally saved you guys so much money!”

Carole laughs at that, though it’s a little strained. “Oh, sweetie. I guess you’re right. I just can’t believe my baby really is married.”

“But hey,” Finn says. “It’s almost two whole years later than you thought it would be!”

“Finn!” Puck says, laughing and leaning his head on Finn’s shoulder. 

“Oh, you!” Carole says. “So what day did you actually get married?”

“Thursday,” Puck answers her. 

“Oh, so… the thirteenth. You almost had a Valentine’s Day anniversary!”

“Oops,” Finn whispers. 

“Dodged a bullet,” Puck says quietly. “No wonder those rose petals were so expensive.”

“What was that?” Carole asks.

“Nothing,” Puck says. “Yeah, we uh… didn’t want to be too cliche.”

“We’re driving now, Mom,” Finn says. “Do you want us to come over for dinner or something?”

“You want a free meal,” Carole says, “but sure, why don’t you boys come for dinner. Will you be back by seven?”

“Should be,” Puck says. “We left early enough we could eat in Lima and get some sleep.”

“Love you, Mom. It’s true what Puck texted you. You’re really gonna be the best mother-in-law!”

“Now I really feel old! I love you, Finn! And, well, congratulations!”

“See you at dinner!” Finn says, nodding his head at Puck to end the call.

Puck hits ‘end’, then pockets his phone and moves a little closer to finn, putting his arm over Finn’s shoulders. “She’ll probably still yell at least once,” Puck says. “And maybe some of our friends.”

Finn grins at Puck. “Yeah, but are they gonna yell louder than me?”

“Probably not,” Puck says with a similar grin. “If they get too nosy, we can show ‘em our book.”


End file.
